The Race Is On
by Revert to Normal
Summary: A hunt has some complications that lead Dean to insist on extra training. Sam doesn't want to. How will the boys settle this one?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing and never will...though my background is a LOVERLY picture of Jensen ; )

A/N: Okay...I've decided that I really like writing short little stories about Dean and Sam just being brothers. So that's what this is. It's kinda funny and really has no action...well, on with the fic I suppose!

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"Hurry it up there Sammy. We need to get there before next week," Dean called back as he made his way through the dense forest.

"I want to see you walk three miles after running for your life," Sam huffed.

"Please, this is like a daily occurrence for us. You'd think you'd be in better shape by now," Dean said, letting a branch snap back in Sam's face.

Sam ducked as the branch whipped through the air, inches above his head. Straightening, Sam glared at his brother's retreating back. Of course Dean would say that. He wasn't the one who had acted the part of bait to lure the werewolf out.

The plan was so simple. Sam would sit in a clearing the werewolf frequented, and when it showed up Dean would shoot it. Everything went exactly like they had hoped. Except for Dean's gun jamming and Sam having to run from a hungry werewolf for a good forty minutes.

Now they were hiking the three miles back to the Impala. All Sam could focus on was the thought of a hot shower and falling into a warm bed to sleep for at least a good ten hours.

-----

"Dean! Why do you get the shower first? I stink way more than you!" Sam yelled through the bathroom door.

"Sorry Sammy, I can't hear you. The shower's too loud!" Dean laughed as Sam kicked the door one more time before stalking off to sit on the bed.

"Jerk, he knew I wanted to shower first. Now he's going to use all the hot water. Or flood the bathroom again," Sam sighed and flopped down on the bed closest to the door. Sam smiled as he thought of his brother's likely reaction when he came out to see a very sweaty, smelly little brother on his bed.

Deciding that what Dean didn't know wouldn't hurt Sam, and offer silent amusement, Sam flipped around so his feet were resting on the pillows.

All too soon Sam heard the shower shut off and hurried to jump off his brother's bed and sit on the chair in the corner. He schooled his features to look irritated at his brother for jumping in the shower first. Obviously he had a better poker face than Dean gave him credit for since his brother just walked by him to grab a clean shirt out of his bag.

"Oh, quit bitchin so much Sammy. I didn't use all the hot water," Dean said, grabbing his jacket and keys from the table. "I'm going to get some food while you clean up. Any requests?"

"Something not dripping with grease would be nice," Sam replied, gathering his clothes together.

"I'll see what I can do, but no promises. Your healthy crap isn't real big in towns like this," Dean winked at him as he closed the door.

Sam growled as the door clicked shut. Dean wasn't going to even try to look for something marginally healthy. In fact, he'd probably get the most disgusting item on the menu.

-----

Dean walked back into the motel room with two huge, greasy bags. He threw them towards the general direction of the bed and walked over to the bathroom, where he could still here the shower going.

"Dude, what're you doing in there? No matter how much you scrub, you'll always have that goofy look on your face," Dean yelled. He heard a muffled retort but ignored it and walked to where the bags had landed.

He picked one up and dug out a greasy burger dripping with ketchup and mayo. He leaned against the head of the bed and started eating. A few minutes later, as he was starting in on the fries with extra salt, Sam came out and shot a disgusted look at him.

"Did you get me anything edible?" Sam asked, reaching for the remaining bag.

"Of course, I'm a loving, providing big brother," Dean mumbled around a mouthful of fries.

"Dean, this isn't what most people would call edible. I think it's still oinking actually," Sam held up the pork sandwich his brother had gotten him.

"Fine don't eat it then."

"Wasn't there anything else that looked like it hadn't been recently slaughtered?"

"No."

"Whatever, jerk."

"Bitch."

------

Sam woke up with sunlight hitting him in the eyes, causing him to squint against the harsh light. Rubbing some of the sleep from his eyes he looked at the bed next to him and noticed a distinct lack of Dean in it. Looking at the clock on the small bedside table he realized it was just after eight in the morning.

"Dean?" Sam called out to the obviously empty motel room. _Where would he go at this time? He normally doesn't move until ten or so._

Figuring he couldn't do anything about his brother's disappearance, Sam got up and went to was up. As he was brushing his teeth he heard the door open and looked out to see Dean walking in with the local paper.

"I think we're going to be getting a short vacation. There's nothing going on here, or anywhere else that I could find," Dean remarked, sitting on his bed. He shoved the pillows around until they were supporting his back and sighed in content.

Sam choked on his toothpaste at the thought of Dean putting something covered in foot sweat that close to his head. And who knew how much his face had touched the defiled pillow.

Sam only felt mildly bad about doing that to his brother. But the feeling was quickly pushed aside when he remembered running through the thick trees and underbrush for twenty minutes at a flat out sprint because Dean's gun had jammed. Then his jerk of a brother had jumped in the shower first and had used almost all of the hot water.

Sam walked out of the bathroom and smiled at the sight of Dean cuddling with the foot pillow.

"What's put you in such a good mood?" Dean asked.

"Nothing, just remembering something," Sam said, sitting on his own bed and pulling out his laptop.

"So I've been thinking. After the way you were complaining so much about that little jog yesterday I think we need to step up our training," Dean glanced over at Sam to see how he would react.

"What? I ran in a full out sprint for twenty minutes! Of course I was tired!" Sam stared at his brother in shock and disbelief.

"I know, but it might not be good enough one day. We need to be at the top of our game. I'm thinking we should start running a mile or two a day," Dean sat up and turned to look at Sam straight on.

"No. I'm not doing extra training. We already do a hundred push-ups and fifty sit ups a day," Sam closed his lap top.

"And obviously it's not enough. Look Sam, I don't want to do this either, but we can't afford to be slow or show any weakness."

"I'm not doing it. We're in better shape than half the hunters we've come across."

Dean sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. Why couldn't Sam understand that Dean had been terrified last night when the gun had jammed and Sam had to run for his life? If something like that happened again, he wanted to be sure that Sam could outrun whatever was after him.

Sam recognized the look of determination on Dean's face. Even his puppy eyes wouldn't be enough to dissuade his brother from the topic.

"I'll make you a deal, okay? Let's race to see if we do extra training," Sam said.

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A/N: Well, there's the first chapter. It's a little choppy, but that's mainly because I didn't feel like writing every little detail. I like fast moving stories...so whatever. Okay...review if you would like...and please be somewhat nice.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I still own nothing other than this pointless plot. Yippee for me...

A/N: This was definately supposed to be up by Monday the latest but I spent the weekend in Orlando to see the Blue Man Group and go to Universal. Then I went to see Maroon 5...it was great. Any-o-ways..here it is, the second chapter. Only one more left. Enjoy!

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"I'll make you deal, okay? Let's race to see if we do extra training," Sam said.

"You wanna race? To see if we do more training? What are you, five?" Dean looked at Sam like he had grown antlers.

"I'm serious. I was always able to run faster than you…" Sam started.

"Only 'cause of your freak legs," Dean mumbled. Sam shot him a look and continued.

"If you're able to out run me, then we'll know that I'm out of shape and need to train harder," Sam looked at Dean expectantly.

Dean thought about it. It was actually a pretty good idea. He knew that they were both in good shape and probably didn't need the extra training, but after last night he just wanted to be sure. And if Sam was still able to outrun him, he guessed he could drop the drill sergeant routine. Besides, Dean was in better shape than his little brother who had taken a four year break from hunting. Chances of him being able to beat him were slim.

"Deal."

-----

"To the intersection, make a right, to the top of the hill, then cut through the parking lot. First one back to the hotel room door wins," Sam outlined the path they would take.

"You sure you can handle a run that far? It's gotta be at least a mile," Dean asked, only half kidding. Truth was he wasn't sure if _he_ could handle it. Not that he was going to tell Sam that.

"Of course I can," Sam eyed Dean's choice of running attire. "Are you really going to wear that to run in?"

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing? It's not like I'm trying to win a beauty pageant or anything," Dean snapped.

"No, but it usually helps to wear something made for running. Boots and jeans aren't," Sam gestured to his running pants and shoes. "This would work better."

"Whatever Samantha, let's just get on with it already," Dean turned to face the intersection mumbling something about 'pansy-ass girls and their clothes.'

Sam shook his head and lined up even with his brother. Both counted to three out loud and took off, their paces matched.

-----

Halfway to the intersection Sam started pulling ahead, stretching his legs out to cover more ground. He chanced a look behind him to see how Dean was doing and was surprised to see him catching up.

_No way can he keep that pace up for the whole race. He'll burn out on the hill most likely,_ Sam thought, turning his attention forward again.

He reached the intersection and was about to make the right when something very solid ran into him. Trying to catch himself before he stepped into the road, Sam looked around to see what had hit him.

Dean. He had sprinted the last few yards to catch up to his brother and had cut the corner tight to pass him. Sam glared at his brother's back and took off after him. No way was he going to lose and have to train more.

Dean looked behind him to see if Sam had recovered from the hit.

_Damn that kid's fast!_ Dean thought as he saw Sam powering up the hill after him. _Guess I'll just have to play a little dirtier._

Sam gained on Dean with every stride, his long legs a huge advantage. He pulled up even with his brother and shot a triumphant look over at him. Just as he was about to pass him an arm shot out caught him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him.

The breath knocked out of him, Sam rubbed his now sore chest. He should have known Dean wouldn't play fairly. He would do anything to win, always had, even when they were kids. Figuring that anytime he tried to pass Dean he would get an arm in his chest or a foot in front of him, Sam dropped back a little and tried to think of a way to get past Dean.

-----

Dean was surprised that Sam hadn't retaliated yet. As soon as his arm had made contact with his brother's chest, he had expected immediate payback. The fact that it hadn't come yet was making him a little nervous.

Wondering if his hit had done some harm to Sam caused him to glance behind him just in time to see Sam barreling full into him. Dean tried to veer out of the way but his options were limited. They were near the top of the hill and he could either run into traffic or into the ditch. Figuring neither was a good option, Dean picked up his pace and tried to put more distance between himself and Sam.

Unfortunately, nothing could keep the freight train that was Samuel Winchester from slamming into him. As they both hit the ground the Dean couldn't help but be amazed at the power behind his little brother. Who would have thought someone so lanky could have such force?

As Sam hit Dean, he wrapped his arms around his brother's waste to make sure Dean would fall too. The last thing he needed was to have Dean manage to stay up while Sam fell. Wouldn't that be ironic? And Dean would never let him hear the end of it.

They fell in a tangle of limbs, each brother trying to soften the blow while attempting to get up before the other. Luck was on Sam's side this time and they ended their short roll with him on top. He jumped up and sprinted up the last few feet of the hill. All that was left was to cut through the parking lot.

As he crossed the small patch of grass to get to the parking lot of the motel, he heard a strangled cry behind him. He had heard that cry before, not often, but enough to recognize it for what it was. Dean.

Sam skidded to a halt and turned to see Dean on the ground where they had fallen. He was on his side with his legs pulled up to his chest. It looked like his breathing was shallow and he was clutching his ribs.

_Oh God, did he get hurt when I hit him? This was just supposed to be a race. Why does everything have to end with one of us hurt?_ Sam thought to himself as he started running back to his brother.

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A/N: Oh no! What has Sam done to Dean? Heh...you'll just have to wait until the next chapter. And yes, I could've totally finished the story in this chapter, but I didn't really feel like it, so there. And feel free to review and tell me how much you adore this story... 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, do you really think I'd be writing a story? Nope, I'd be making Jensen and Jared act it out for my own sick pleasure...wouldn't that be fun?

A/N: So...this was just supposed to be a short story. One, maybe two chapters. So much for that. There should only be one chapter left. Hope you guys are still enjoying it...So here it is. ENJOY!

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Sam skidded to a halt and turned to see Dean on the ground where they had fallen. He was on his side with his legs pulled up to his chest. It looked like his breathing was shallow and he was clutching his ribs.

_Oh God, did he get hurt when I hit him? This was just supposed to be a race. Why does everything have to end with one of us hurt?_ Sam thought to himself as he started running back to his brother.

------

As they came to a stop, Dean felt something in his chest bend past its breaking point. Before he could fully register what had happened and why he was in so much pain, Sam had already jumped up and was running back to the motel room.

Dean put his hand out and started to push himself off the ground. He stopped when he felt something in his chest shift. Deciding it wasn't anything he couldn't handle; he ignored it and pushed himself up to a crouched position. As soon as he straightened though, he couldn't pretend nothing was wrong as a sharp pain lanced through his side.

Involuntarily crying out against the pain, he crumbled back to the ground. His breaths were coming in short pants and the pain wasn't subsiding any. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he bent his head down and attempted to breath through it.

_What are the chances of hunting a werewolf and getting away without a scratch, but a simple race does me in? What kind of cosmic crap is this?_

As his breathing finally came back under control, he heard running. He lifted his eyes and saw Sam hovering over him with a look of concern on his face. Groaning in preparation for the mothering that was sure to come, Dean closed his eyes.

"Are you okay? What hurts? Can you breathe?" Sam asked, barely taking a breath between questions.

Dean wasn't okay. His ribs were killing him. And breathing was getting harder and harder to accomplish. But hearing the concern and guilt in his little brother's voice forced him to push his own pain away and put Sam at ease.

"I'm fine Sam. Ribs are just a little sore, is all. Help me up and to the room. A little ice, a little rest, and I'll be good as new," Dean looked up and flashed a smile.

Sam didn't look completely convinced but was more than happy to let Dean lie his way through this one. As Dean stood, he grunted a little as his obviously broken rib shifted. Sam ignored the slight grimace that crossed his brother's features before being hidden behind his mask of cool, calm, and collected again.

"Hurry it up there Sammy. We need to get there before next week," Dean said, looking at Sam.

"So, is this a draw?" Sam asked, trying to keep the mood light as he snapped back to helping Dean.

"Think of it as more of a cancellation due to injury," Dean smirked. "But don't worry, we will finish this."

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"You sure you're okay? You're still a little pale," Sam asked from the table across the room.

Dean was lounging on his bed, with new pillows, with the remote control in hand. He was busy flicking through the channels, attempting to find something halfway entertaining. Sighing and turning off the tv, Dean rolled his head on the headrest to look at Sam.

"Yes, Sam, I'm fine. Stop asking me. If I wasn't, I'd tell you," Dean said, resisting the urge to sit up straight to prove his point. No matter how much he said he was fine, he knew he wasn't.

"Would you tell me?" Sam asked. Dean shot him a look and he continued, "I mean, come on man. You never tell anyone when you're hurt. You wait until you're in too much pain to move or you're bleeding to death."

"Whatever Sam, I'm fine. Why don't you go get us something to eat from that place down the road?" Dean suggested, hoping to get Sam's thoughts off of him.

"Sure. Want anything in particular?"

"Nope, just make sure you pick up some beer too," Dean picked up the remote again and turned back to the tv. He waited until Sam had left and he heard the Impala leave the parking lot before pulling out the bottle of pain relievers and popping two into his mouth. Figuring it was now or never, Dean braced himself for the pain that would come with moving. In one, quick motion, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

Keeping one hand pressed against his chest, he pushed off the bed and stood. He had to close his eyes as the room spun around him. Swallowing back the pain, he moved to his bag and dug out the first aid kit and went into the bathroom to try and wrap his ribs before Sam got back.

-----

Sam pulled back into the parking twenty minutes later. He hadn't planned on being gone for so long, but the waitress at the dinner wouldn't stop talking to him and refused to give him his order until he had engaged in a real conversation with her.

He got out of the car with a bag that held two orders of eggs, hash browns, sausage, ham, and coffee. It was only ten in the morning and he had refused to buy the beer Dean had requested.

He unlocked the door and walked in, looking over at the bed for Dean. When he saw the empty bed he panicked, before he noticed the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. Shaking his head at how jumpy he was, he kicked the door closed and put the food on the table.

As his stomach grumbled at the smell of the food coming from the bag, Sam decided he didn't really have to wait for Dean to get out of the bathroom. He pulled the bag closer and took out one of the styrofoam boxes.

For once the food actually looked edible and not like it had been reheated five times. Sam dug into his breakfast and was just finishing off his last piece of sausage when he realized Dean still hadn't come out of the bathroom. In fact, he hadn't hear any noise come from the bathroom other than the faucet water.

"Dean, you okay in there?" Sam yelled, turning to face the door. When he didn't hear a response, Sam got up and walked over to the bathroom door. He knocked and waited for Dean to say something. When there was still no sound other than the running water, Sam put his ear against the door.

"Dean! What's taking you so long?" Sam yelled. "If you don't answer me I'm coming in. And neither of us wants me to see you naked."

Sam waited a few second for a reply and felt his stomach drop when there wasn't one. Trying to twist the knob, he was met with a locked door. And unfortunately they had chosen a decent motel and just jiggling the handle wouldn't do much. Hitting his fist into the door, Sam ran to his bag and grabbed the lock pick kit.

"I swear to God Dean, if you're hurt I'm going to kill you," Sam muttered as he worked on the lock. Thankful that that was one skill he had willingly learned when he was a kid, he heard the click of the lock.

Sam pushed the door open to find an empty bathroom. Standing, he tried to push the door open the rest of the way, only to have it stop halfway. Looking around the door he saw Dean curled behind the door, holding his ribs.

His shirt was off and it looked like he had started to wrap it. Sam closed the door and knelt next to him and tapped his face.

"Dean? Dean! Get up, come on. Wake up," Sam commanded, trying to sound like their dad. Dean didn't react to the poking or the authoritative voice. Sam looked around to see if he could find what would cause his idiot of a brother to pass out like that.

Not finding anything that could've led to Dean's collapse, Sam looked back at his brother and noticed spots of blood around his mouth and on the floor. Standing and looking in the trash can, Sam saw a dozen or so tissues covered in blood.

Running back out to the room, he grabbed his phone off the table and dialed 911. As he waited for his call to be answered, he hurried back to his brother. Dean was still in the same position and didn't look like he was going to be moving any time soon.

"Hello, you've reached 911. What's your emergency?" a voice asked in a clipped, bored tone.

"I think my brother has a broken rib that's punctured a lung. I need an ambulance, now," Sam all but yelled into the phone. All he could think was that if Dean had, just this once, told him he was hurt, they wouldn't be rushing to another hospital. Dean wouldn't be in danger of dieing again. And Sam wouldn't be left in the waiting room wondering if he would have to bury someone else he loved.

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A/N: So, this was a different kind of chapter for me. I usually don't write things where they get hurt. Usually it's just a short, funny, pointless story. So let me know if I did a somewhat decent job of hurting Dean and causing worry and distress for Sam. Or let me know if I totally sucked at it and should never attempt it again...for the good of future stories and all. Okay...go. Now. Review!!!! 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing. It's all very sad, isn't it?

A/N: I know, it took forever for me to update. I just couldn't get into it for some reason. But this is the last chapter, and I must say, that for as many people have added this to their alert list and favorites, the reviews are lacking. Maybe that's why I couldn't make myself write it, I wasn't getting any feedback...or maybe I'm just lazy and trying to find an excuse for not doing it. Well, I hope you all like it. I'm totally not a pre-med student, so the medical crap is just that...crap. Okay...ENJOY!

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"I think my brother has a broken rib that's punctured a lung. I need an ambulance, now," Sam all but yelled into the phone. All he could think was that if Dean had, just this once, told him he was hurt, they wouldn't be rushing to another hospital. Dean wouldn't be in danger of dieing again. And Sam wouldn't be left in the waiting room wondering if he would have to bury someone else he loved.

-----

"I need you to fill out some of these forms for me, sir," the nurse from the desk had come over to Sam and was holding out a clipboard expectantly.

"Right, of course," Sam sat up straighter and took the clipboard. He mindlessly filled in the necessary blanks that told the history of a man that didn't exist. Wondering how big the medical file would be on his brother, had they always used their real name, he stood and carried the completed forms back to the nurse.

"Can you tell me anything about my brother?" Sam asked, not really expecting to be told anything. Hospitals seemed to take a sick pleasure from withholding information from families.

"I'm sorry Mr. Sinclair, but I haven't heard anything on him. But I'm sure a doctor will be out to see you soon," the nurse smiled warmly at him and went back to work before Sam had even turned away.

Sam walked back to his seat, wondering how long it could possibly take to fix his stubborn brother up. It was only a punctured lung, how bad could it be? Sam snorted at the thought that their life was so screwed up that a punctured lung was no big deal.

And his dad and brother had wondered why he wanted a normal life so badly.

-----

"Mr. Sinclair? I'm Dr. Howell, I was in charge of your brother's surgery," a man that couldn't have been out of college for more than a year walked up to Sam and offered his hand.

"How is he? Is he going to be okay?" Sam asked, shaking the doctor's hand.

"He's going to be fine. The rib did puncture his lung, but there wasn't much damage done to it. We were able to fix it up and set and wrap his ribs without any complications," Dr. Howell said.

"Thank God," Sam whispered, rubbing a hand over his face. "When can I see him?"

"He should be coming around any minute now and they'll move him to a room. Someone will come get you when he's settled," Dr. Howell said. He looked like he was about to say more, but his pager went off and, after checking it, nodded to Sam and ran towards the elevators.

Sam hardly noticed the doctor's abrupt departure; he was too busy thanking whatever higher power there was for looking after his brother, again. It seemed their lives were made up of close calls and near misses. And what was really ironic was the fact that this wasn't the cause of chasing something supernatural.

Sure, it had come about because of the whole werewolf fiasco. But the actual injury had occurred when they had been racing. Something people did every day without near death experiences. And if this kind of thing did happen to an ordinary person, Sam was pretty sure they wouldn't have tried to hide it like Dean.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the pair of white shoes stopped right in front of him. Only looking up when he felt a hand on his shoulder, he saw that a nurse was looking at him with kind, brown eyes.

"Mr. Sinclair? Your brother's awake and has been moved to a room if you would like to see him now," she said, motioning towards the doors to the left.

"Oh, of course; thank you," Sam said, trying to offer a smile. He figured he had failed miserably at it when the nurse's already sympathetic eyes seemed to ooze compassion and pity.

-----

"Hey there Sammy, how's it hanging?" Dean asked from the bed.

Sam stopped just inside the room, he hadn't expected his brother to look so pale and sick but still sound so…Dean-like. Sam had been preparing himself for a repeat of the raw head incident when Dean was too weak to really stay awake. How could his brother act so normal when just a few hours ago he was bleeding to death on the bathroom floor?

"H-hey Dean, how're you feeling?" Sam asked, walking up to the bed.

"Great, I really don't think there's a reason for me to stay here any longer," Dean said.

"Dude, you just got out of a surgery that repaired a punctured lung. I think you should at least stay over night," Sam said, pulling a chair over to sit down.

"Come on Sammy, I'm fine. Can't say I've never felt better, because I have. But I feel pretty damn fine, considering," Dean smiled his megawatt smile.

Luckily Sam had long since built up immunity to it.

"No, Dean. You're staying," Sam said, crossing his arms and giving Dean his patented 'I'm the little brother, you can't deny me anything' look.

Apparently they had Dean on some pretty good drugs, because he dropped the topic easily. Sam even thought he saw a look of relief flash across his brother's face. But that was impossible, since when would any Winchester be relieved to be spending time in a hospital?

"There any cute nurses on duty out there? I've only had the pleasure of meeting one. And I gotta say, she wasn't really my type," Dean stated, leaning his head back on the pillow.

"Someone who's not your type? What's wrong with her?" Sam asked, actually surprised that Dean had found someone he wasn't interested in.

"Nothing's wrong with her, she's just not my type. I do have a type you know, I don't just go for anyone that can walk and talk," Dean huffed.

"Of course not, you like the classy ladies," Sam smirked, thinking of Dean's last hook up. She was a real lady with her short skirt, knee high boots, and tank-top that looked like it was made for a ten year old.

"At least I get the ladies, Sammy," Dean said, flashing a smile at his brother even as he felt his eyes drifting shut. They really had him on the good stuff if he couldn't stay up for more than a few minutes.

Sam saw his brother losing the fight against sleep and figured that while Dean was in between consciousness and sleep, it would be the best time to say what was on his mind.

"Hey, Dean," Sam waited for a sign that Dean was still somewhat with it before continuing, "I'm glad you're okay. I don't know what I would've done if you had…Why do you have to hide your injuries from me? You don't have to be the strong, silent type all the time. Let me take care of you. I'm not a kid anymore."

Sam stopped and rubbed a hand over his face. He wasn't sure how much longer he could just sit by and watch his brother constantly get hurt. Dean was 26; he should have a normal job, maybe even be getting married. But no, their dad had chosen this life for his sons and Dean was determined to see it through to the end. Even if the end meant his death.

"Just stop being such an idiot and let me help you every once in awhile. I can't do this without you, Dean. You don't understand…" Sam stopped as Dean's hazel-green eyes opened and focused on him.

"Stop your yammering, Sammy. I'm trying to rest here so I can get out of this stupid hospital," Dean tried to make his voice harsh, but it came out a little slurred from the medication he was on.

_Damn, I gotta get me a to-go supply of these things. Sure would make life better…_

"Sorry, I thought you were already sleeping," Sam said, hoping that Dean hadn't heard anything he had said.

"I would be if you weren't talking so much," Dean said, his eyes slipping closed again. "If a hot nurse comes in, wake me up."

"Sure thing, Dean," Sam smiled, thankful that Dean seemed no worse for the wear of the latest injury.

"And Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't think you got out of extra training. I call a do over on account of injury," Dean mumbled, already falling asleep.

* * *

A/N: And there you have it. The end to yet another fic. It was my birthday present to myself. I told myself that I would post it on my birthday so that I could be done with it, and I did. So happy 19th to me from me!!! Heh..okay. Hope you all enjoyed it at least a little. Reviews would be nice. And hopefully some of you will read some of the other ones I've already written or plan on writing. Happy Holidays! 


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